The Adventures of Team SEWN
by LordTomyh
Summary: Four young adults come to Beacon academy to become Huntsman and Huntresses. Coming together from different walks of life these four students are thrown in the deep end and have to adjust tho their new lives as a team or risk losing their dream, and their lives, forever.


**Serena**

Serena threw the last of her bags into the boot of the taxi and slammed the hood. The taxi driver growled at her treating his car roughly; Serena ignored him, starring at the house with a smouldering discontent glare. All the windows were ink black, the chimney place sleeping and the front door shut grimly against the bricks. It was a cold house, an unwelcoming house, but it was the only house Serena had ever known.

She turned away from the house and read the crinkled and torn note for the fifth time today.

_Serena._

_You mother and I have been called away to an important digsite. Please keep the house clean, the yard neat and we'll see you in a few months._

They didn't even bother to tell Serena they loved her or to take care of herself; they didn't even remember she had been accepted into Beacon. Serena crumpled the note in her hand, again, and hopped in the Taxi, slamming the door a bit harder then she meant to. The taxi driver growled again and started the car.

"Where to?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Airship tower."

The taxi driver glanced in the rear-view mirror, his eyebrows rising. "You're going to beacon ain't ya?"

Serena shot one last glance at her home, no just a house, as the taxi pulled away. "Yes, I'm going to Beacon."

**Erika**

Erika tried to hide a giggle with her fingers as she crouched behind the bench, waiting. Heavy footsteps approached the bench, someone whistling, falling for the bait muffins Erika put on the bench. She flicked her purple hair from her eyes as she heard the man bite into one of the muffins. She smiled as he muttered to himself, spraying crumbs all over the bench.

"SURPRISE!" Erika yelled, leaping up from her hiding spot. The man swore loudly, spraying more muffins everywhere as he stumbled backwards and went over the low table behind him, the table that was normal against the back wall.

"Erika!" the man roared, getting to his feet. The young purple-haired girl was rolling around the kitchen floor, holding her sides as she laughed uncontrollably, running out of breath. "Will you stop doing that?" The man asked, pushing the table back against the wall and picking up the larger bits of half-eaten muffin; Erika still couldn't breath. "I'm getting sick of you jumping out and scaring me half to death, you're going to give me a heart attack one day young lady."

"I, can't, breath," Erika struggled to say between laughing.

"Good, I hope that makes you late."

"Late? Shit" Erika tried to get up, but her chest and sides hurt, her laughs now weak and far between. The man just smiled menacingly and continued picking up the bits of muffin.

"Yeah, late, so you better hurry up, I'm not driving you now."

**Walt**

Walt ducked under the swing and punched his attacker in the ribs. The attacker gasped and fell to the ground struggling for breath; Walt ignored him as he retrieved his quarterstaff from the ground and knocked aside a second attacker. A third attack came from behind the second, swinging at Walt with an open hand, claws in place of nails ready to bite skin. She didn't see the other end of the large pole till it caught her in the stomach, winding her. Walt knocked her aside and focused on the second attacker.

The man swore and drew his dual-pistols, firing at Walt. Walt smiled coyly and spun his staff around in his hand, deflecting the projectiles. Using his weapon as a shield Walt quickly advanced on the attacker and knocked away his weapons. The man swore again and grabbed the end of Walt's quarterstaff.

Walt swore and tried to pull his weapon back, but the man saw he had the wheat-haired boy and pulled harder, wrenching the staff, and Walt towards him.

Instead of stumbling like his attacker had expected Walt ducked under his own weapon, unscrewing the bottom half and ending up on the open side of his attacker.

The man knew he had been tricked and swung Walt's own weapon at him. Walt was quicker, swinging the bottom half of his staff into the mans back. The man screamed and fell forwards, dropping Walt's weapon; Walt hit him again across the back of the mans legs, making sure he stayed down.

Walt picked up the top half of his weapon and waltzed over to the end of the alleyway, picking up a leather bag laying near the entrance. The first attacker lay near the bag, groaning and swearing weakly as he tried to get to his feet. Walt walked over and kicked him hard in the gut, dropping him again as he kept walking.

Outside the alleyway he could hear the sirens getting closer; he wanted to be away from here before they arrive, or else spend hours answering pointless questions; Walt didn't want to be late on this day.

He started walking down a street, passing people milling around. A lady was sobbing into a handkerchief as two others tried to comfort her. As he stepped pass Walt dropped the bag at her feet; the lady saw this and seized it, making sure everyone was still there before looking around for her hero. By the time she looked Walt was walking down the next street, a large tower just in front of him as airships came and went.

A large airship passed over head, stealing the light as the engines roared loudly. Walt looked up at the large ship with a smile on his face; his ride was here.

**Nikolas**

Nikolas threw the broken punching bag to the back of the room, sand spilling everywhere as it collided with a broken brother atop a pile of destroyed punching bags.

The towering young man ignored the pile, stretching his arms he felt the tendons joints and muscles pop and shift in perfect union. His body, bare from the waist up, was only lightly wet from sweat, his hair black hair barely damp as he bent and retrieved two weighted gunmetal handles, chains sounding their brittle melody as the jointed brothers of the handles from the ground.

Nikolas snapped the nun-chucks and started to spin them around his body. The gunmetal became a dark blur as he unleashed his might and power on imaginary foes. Nikolas soon fell into a pattern, his body moving without order or thought; pressing a buton one of the handles the chain suddenly extended as Nikolas spun, turning the short nun-chuck into a long whip that circled the young man before snapping at the air, in front of a older redhead man.

Nikolas stopped his practise as the man started to laugh and dropped a travel bag at his feet. "Last minute practise?"

Nikolas didn't answer. Turning he walked over a table on the far side of the gym, packing away his weapons. The man didn't move from the doorway.

"Anxious?"

"No," Nikolas said flatly, pulling a shirt on.

"Excited?"

"A little," Nikolas put a water-bottle and a few packs of food into his bag and threw it across his back.

"Do you want a lift?"

"No, I'll walk," Nikolas said as he crossed the gym and passed his cousin, coldly starring forward. Adam sighed behind him and fell in step.

"Try be a bit nicer, and not so, cold."

Nikolas didn't say anything, but shot a glance at his cousin and nodded before stepping out the door.


End file.
